


pew pew motherfuckers

by Vinnocent



Series: Anistuck [1]
Category: Animorphs (TV), Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, Homestuck
Genre: Albinism, Albino Dave, Albino Dirk, Albino Rose, Albino Roxy, Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Emetophobia, Family Drama, Gen, Humanstuck, Identical Twins, Mind Control, Queer Families, Teenage Drama, Trans Dave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinnocent/pseuds/Vinnocent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be a normal day hanging out with his best friend. Instead, Dave discovered an inexplicable sister and an alien invasion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mademoisellePlume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mademoisellePlume/gifts).



> So our group has started and abandoned several Anistuck AUs. K and I think maybe we figured it out this time, putting the Beta kids in the place of the original Animorphs characters.

Your name is Dave Strider. Obviously, there is no reason to be concerned about telling people this. That would be dumb and uncool, and as everyone knows that you are the epitome of cool. At least you are in comparison to your best friend, John Egbert, who seems to have forgotten that you are 13 years old, not 4.

“Dude, we’re way too old for a fuckin’ _playdate_ ,” you drawl. You spot a Game Hub and grab him by the elbow, steering him toward the NES bargain bin where you are guaranteed to some truly ironic fuckery that might entertain you for all of an hour tonight.

John is easily steered on account of the fact that he’s texting his cousin instead of looking where he’s going, the douche. You shake your head, ashamed for his lack of basic human dignity. Okay, not really. You sort through cartridges trying to find the shittiest-looking game that you don’t already own and barely hear his argument of “It’s not a playdate! She’s just new, and Jade wants to introduce her to more people and knows that we’re cool.”

“You mean _I’m_ cool,” you counter just to be obnoxious.

“Come on, you’re new, too!” John insists. “You know what it’s like!”

“I’m not new. I moved here six months ago,  _before_ school started, like a normal human being,” you remind him. “And I already had a friend here.”

John declines to point out that your inability to make friends is why you had to move to a completely different state to be in the company of the only idiot fool enough to stand you _or_ that you are damn lucky that your bro can do his work literally anywhere. Well, except Starbucks, from which he has been banned and an impending court case. “Whatever, man,” he says instead, and you swear you can hear him roll his eyes. “Jade says they’re already in the mall a few shops down, so they’ll come meet us here.”

Without looking up, you quickly run through your sketchy memory of the mall, which isn’t hard since you just left the hallway a minute ago. A few shops down is a maternity store and a HotTopic. You don’t think you can hedge your bets on Jade’s new friend being one of the most recent stars of _16 and Pregnant_. You grab a game at random and beeline for the cash register. Like hell do you need a scenester bringing attention to you.

Behind you, John calls out “Hey!” to someone. “Jade and… Are you Rose?”

Ugh, not fast enough. Time to be rude and unfriendable again.

“Uh… Dave?” There’s something weird about John’s tone, but you’re busy digging cash out of your pocket. “Do you… I think you should meet Rose.”

“Jesus, calm your tits,” you grumble. You shove your cash into the hands of a very zitty clerk.

“Is it considered polite in this region to publicly announce when someone’s pectorals are perturbed?” asks the snottiest fucking voice you’ve ever heard. She sounds like a the shitty sister of a Disney princess.

“Haha, what?” says John.

“Hurry up, Dave!” Jade giggles. “Come on, you’ll love her! I promise! She’s great!”

You take your bag and receipt. Turning, you say, “Harley, I have never once in my－” You forget your words upon actually facing the new girl. The first thought you have is that she is utterly and completely gorgeous. Your second thought is so completely weird and unspeakable that of course John has to say it for you.

“Haha, man, she looks exactly like you!”

Rose Something primly arches a thin, blonde eyebrow. Jade Harley glances back and forth between the two of you in complete confusion as though she honestly doesn’t see it. You have gone completely fucking rigid, confusion and pure hate fight for first chance to vomited up, and in your struggle to keep them down, none of your usual casual barbs can make it out. John is laughing the slowly dying laugh of a man who is failing to figure out why his awesome joke did not get a laugh.

Just as you’re starting to gather your wits, and Rose’s eyebrow starts to come down again as she prepares to say anything at all, John finally remembers why you had to move. “Oh! Um, not that－ I mean, you’ve got the same… Hair. Skin. Nose. Shoulders. Um.”

Everything. You’ve got the same everything, right down to the creepy eyes, not that she can possibly know that with the awesome as hell stupid aviators that John got you for your birthday.

“Subtle as ever, Egbert,” you say. You shoulder past them and head out. “Look, I gotta head home anyway. Can’t let Bro order Chinese without my input. I’ll end up drinking sweet n’ sour sauce like it's soup. Again.” You pretend that you don’t see Rose raise that prim little eyebrow again. You pretend that you don’t want to punch it off her (your) snotty fucking face.

“Awe alright, I guess it’s getting late already,” John admits. “Dad will want me home for supper and homework.”

“What? It’s not that late!” Jade protests. “Come on guys! We just got here!”

Rose turns to her like she’s peering at a strange and fascinating bug with a magnifying glass. “We didn’t just get here,” she says. “We’ve been shopping for over two hours already. You spent three hundred dollars.” She gestures to the absurd amount of bags that Jade is carrying. Rose has one small bag (HotTopic) hanging off a single finger like she’s too good to actually hold things she buys. It's the kind of bullshit fronting that you would do, and it makes you hate her more.

“What?” Jade finally checks her smartwatch. “Oh… Oh, shit I was supposed to walk the dogs!”

You tilt your head a little at that. “Dogs?” you repeat. “Plural? How many of those hellbeasts do you own?”

“Heehee! You mean Becquerel? He’s the only dog like him I’ve met,” she says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “And he’s the only one that’s mine. But my family has a lot, and I said I would walk them on Thursdays, and oh man, I am _so_ late! Ginger’s gonna pee at the door like five minutes before I get there!”

“Don’t worry, we still have time if we cut through the construction site!” John says, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door.

You start to walk after them, but Rose balks at the three of you. “Construction site?” she repeats. “As in heavy equipment, open pits, and shadowed areas out of view? This appeals to you as a route home?”

You glance back at her over your shoulder, expression blank. “Scared?” you ask as blandly as possible.

Rose sniffs haughtily. “Do you really think that I－?”

“No way are we scared of a silly old construction site!” Jade answers for her, running back to the two of you to grab Rose’s hand and pull her along. “C’mon, Rose, we’ll show these dumb boys who’s braver!”

You’re barely able to flatten your smirk and keep your expression in check. You may, in fact, still stand a chance of ditching this snobby disaster.

So of course, this is when the alien lands.

You’re cutting through this abandoned construction site that lies directly between the mall and the nearest cluster of suburbia, where John and Jade live. Probably Rose also, if she’s going to the same school as you. Bro’s deathly allergy to picket fence settings put the two of you in yet another shitty apartment right at the edge of the busing zone for John's school. To go around the site adds at least fifteen minutes to anyone’s route. To go through is very obviously dangerous, and forbidden by helicopter moms like John’s dad and Jade’s… whoever the fuck she lives with.

Bro had just told you that if you got yourself maimed to make sure it was good and brag-worthy. _Try and lose a limb,_ he’d said. _Chicks dig one-armed swordsmen._

Rose gives up on telling you three that this is stupid and dangerous (using the biggest words she can pull out of the thesaurus she hides up her butt) by the time you get there. Instead, she honest-to-god starts attempting to psychoanalyze your respective motivations for reckless behavior. Every time you turn to her, you get slapped in the face with her… face. That is the fastest a metaphor has ever escaped you. Point is you can’t stand looking for her, so you’ve settled for ignoring her to the best of your ability, focusing instead on what you’re going to say to Bro.

_“Hey, Bro, guess who I ran into today? Me!”_

_“Bro, am I adopted?”_

_“So, Bro, Harley got a new friend. Wanna see a pic?”_

_“Hey, Bro, do you ever miss Daisy? Well guess－”_ It is at this point that you realize you were both given flowers for names, and you nearly fall into an open pit. You save yourself by throwing your weight suddenly backwards so that you fall onto dirt instead of a small garden of rebar spikes.

John is straight-up laughing at you while you pull yourself back to your feet, while Rose is wearing the most smug-ass “told you so” expression in the history of smug-ass “told you so” expressions, and hasn’t anyone taught this girl how to keep her chill? About two yards behind them, you notice that Jade has completely failed to notice your flailing and has instead stopped following the group in order to stare up at the sky. “Yo, Harley! Ain’tchu the one that needed t’ get home before your devil-beast shat on the couch?”

With a grin, Jade points to the sky and says, “But this is so much more cool!”

All three of you turn to see what the hell she’s talking about. There’s a blue-white light streaking across the sky. “What? Harley, have you honestly never seen an airplane before?”

“If that is an airplane,” Rose says a little slowly, like she’s still trying to decide, “then we should move quickly, because I am fairly certain that it is headed this direction.” Sounding slightly strained, like she’s trying not to show her worry, she says, “It is headed this direction very quickly.”

“Maybe it’s a drone,” John guesses. “Or maybe it’s a meteor!”

You roll your eyes at him. “Egbert, will you please stop _hoping_ for a world-ending meteor? Even if this was _Armageddon_ , you are not an astronaut who will－”

“Guys, what are you talking about?” Jade exclaims, laughing like you’re all being dumb. You are being dumb, but she started it. “It’s a spaceship!”

“Harley, there is no such thing as spaceships,” you say automatically.

“I do believe the National Aeronautics－”

You round on Rose and snap, “Goddammit, could you stop being a smartass for three seconds? You realize it doesn’t help ingratiate anyone to you?”

Rose stiffens, narrows her eyes in a sharp glare, then raises her chin and prepares a defense. She never gets to try it out, though, because John interrupts you with, “Guys, I think she’s right!”

You and Rose turn back to the lights in the sky, which have slowed down but grown larger. Rose was right, it’s coming at you. And as much as you hate to admit it, Dorkbert and Harley are right also. “Well… shit.”


	2. Chapter 2

The ship is about as long as a school bus but fatter at one end, due to being shaped like a fucking egg. An egg with two stubby wings, at the end of each are the bright-burning tubes that you assume to be engines. The egg also has a tail that arches up over it, ending in a sharp point and looking a lot like some kind of weapon. Its shiny silver exterior is warped and black from the back and up along one side.

Maybe it’s more like a bat than an egg? Bat-scorpion? Hm.

“It’s kind of cute!” Jade cries, bouncing on the balls of her feet again with her hands clutched to her chest in lieu of being able to actually _hug_ the metallic monstrosity.

“It’s landing,” Rose points out.

“We should… probably leave,” says John.

No one leaves. You do, however, pull your iPhone out of your pocket and tap the camera app with your thumb. Jade promptly pushes your hand back down. “Dave, that is so rude!” she cries. “You have no idea if they’re okay with having evidence of their existence recorded or not!”

“Harley, if they don’t want their fucking picture taken, that is probably a good damn sign that it _needs_ to be taken and sent to the police right the fuck away,” you argue.

“What?” She peers at you like you’re actually the weirdest thing in the area at the moment.

“While in a way I do side with…” Rose hesitates, then looks briefly away from the spaceship to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we ever actually got around to introductions.”

“Dave Strider,” you say blandly. “Over there is John Egbert. And in front of us is a motherfucking space invader.”

Rose nods. “Rose Lalonde,” she says. She peers sideways at the thing as its engines shut off and it drops the last couple of inches to the ground. “Quickly: My point is that while I see your logic in assuming that an unknown entity with something to hide may, in fact, be an unknown entity with something to expose and that this something may be potentially dangerous, it remains that we are still within twenty feet of it, and if we are not going to run away in the next few seconds, we should probably do our best not incur its wrath from the very first instance of meeting, if avoidable.” She spares a second, disdainful glance back your way. “As difficult for you as that may be.”

You all four exchange glances. By silent unanimous vote, it is decided that no one is running. You put your phone back in your pocket.

You wait.

Nothing happens.

You look to John. He’s already gotten bored, checking his watch and fidgeting. In front of you, Jade’s bouncing is becoming less and less restrained. Off to the side, Lalonde is casting suspicious glances into the darkness around you.

Jade finally explodes and jumps over closer to the side of the little pod, scaring the shit out of the rest of you. “Wha－!” “HARLEY, GET BACK HERE!” “Um, Jade…?” But she ignores you all to announce, “Hi, there! I’m Jade! It’s okay for you to come out! It’s safe!”

You groan and rub you eyes under your shades. “Harley, what makes you think it understands English?”

She looks at you over her shoulder like a confused puppy. “Why wouldn’t they?” she asks.

<I know,> says a voice in your head.

You may have just pissed yourself a tiny bit. “Jade, get the fuck away from it!” you snap.

“Dave, chill out,” Jade says in what may just be the most ironic chastisement you’ve ever gotten if it weren’t for the fact that you have thrown chill out the window and are proceeding to do a triple somersault right off the fucking handle because there is a motherfucking spaceship in front of you apparently containing a motherfucking alien with the ability to speak _directly into your brain_. John keeps reaching forward and then pulling his hand back with aborted attempts to grab her. Rose is inching backward, but she’s also twitching toward Jade, unwilling to abandon her to make an escape. Maybe the broad isn’t as bad as you’d assumed. At the very least, she is no longer the most fucked up thing to happen to you today. “Will you come out?” Jade calls to the ship, heedless of your good sense.

There is a long, long pause, before the alien telepathically replies in words that are not English but are still, somehow, completely able to be understood. <Yes. Do not be frightened.>

“Oh, don’t worry!” Jade says, backing away a few steps to give the ship some space. “Dave’s just a weenie.”

“Hey!” you snap, and John snickers.

A thin arc of light appears in the side of the pod. Slowly, it widens into a doorway. Standing there in the light is a silhouette that looks like a centaur, assuming centaurs come in “twink” flavor. It’s about the size of a larger deer (but not a prize buck, and fuck your life for knowing the difference), but instead of a neck, it just has more body. A humanoid body to be exact. Small and slim, but… probably adult? How the hell would you know?

He steps forward toward you and promptly falls.

“Oh, no!” Jade cries, at his side fast enough it could probably count as a flashstep, her wounded animal senses tingling. “Are you okay?” she cries as she tries to help him up.

You flashstep to her side, hand in the sleeve of your hoodie, where you keep a long knife. You won’t draw it yet, but you’ve seen that he’s equally prepared to fight; his long, thickly muscled tail ends in a fucking _scythe_. He’s covered in blue and tan fur. Each of his two hands have seven fingers. While he has two large, jewel-green eyes in the usual place for eyes, he has another two on stalks on top of his head, and they constantly move, taking in every detail of his surroundings. He has no mouth or nose, with three vertical slits on the lower portion of his face instead.

<Do not worry for me,> says the alien. <There is nothing you can do. The wound is fatal.>

The wound? You take another visual survey, and how did you miss that he’s completely fucked up on one side. He seems to have also been burned by the blast that melted his ship. You relax maybe a millimeter; just because he says the wound is fatal doesn’t mean it actually is.

“Please, let us help,” Rose urges. She has taken about one and a half steps forward, still cautious of the situation. “I know we must seem primitive to you, but it’s still possible that there may be something we can do.”

His head turns to her, and he narrows his eyes, struggling to focus in the dark. One of his stalk eyes remains on you in a way that makes you tense up again while the other continues searching your surroundings. Finally, he says, <I am aware that you are not to be underestimated. But even my own people could not heal me before the Yeerks get here.>

You finally pull the knife. Rose arches that eyebrow at you again but looks relieved. Jade ignores you, used to your blade affinity by now. You aren’t sure what John’s doing because he’s behind you and like hell are you taking eyes off this creature. “What the fuck is a Yeerk?” you demand. “Is that what you are? A kind of alien?”

<Yes, an alien to your world, but not like me,> he says. <They are very different. They have come to destroy you.>

“Destroy us?” John demands, stepping forward. “Destroy us how?”

<Yeerks are different from both your kind and our kind,> says the alien. <Many are here. Hundreds. Maybe more. Their body isn’t like yours or mine. It is small, like a slug. They prefer, instead, to live in the bodies of other species, entering through the ear canal and taking over the host’s brain.>

“How do you tell who’s one of them?” you demand.

The alien shakes his head.

“Are they the ones who shot you down?” asks Rose.

The alien nods. <Yes, my people, the Andalites, came to survey the condition of the Yeerk presence on Earth and prepare for attack. We had brought a Dome ship, usually enough to fight the small Yeerk fleet we thought was present. Instead, they had a new Blade ship hidden on your moon. It took us by surprise. I was only barely able to escape. I’d hoped… I’d hoped to warn them. The humans. They need to know…>

Suddenly, that fourth eye stops moving, and the other three turn in the same direction. Up. <There is no time. They are coming.>

Above you are new lights zipping about in the night sky. Red lights. The way they move suggests at least two more ships. Yeerks. These are Yeerks, and they’re coming to kill you.

“There has to be something we can do!” John insists. “There must be some way we can stop them!”

<You cannot stop them,> says the alien. His eyes briefly widen. <But…> He glances with one stalk eye toward his ship. <Yes, there may be a way that you can defend yourselves. Keep yourselves safe.> Again, his focus shifts to the sky, then to Jade, who’s still latched onto him like one of her squiddles. <In my ship is a small blue box. You must hurry!>

“Got it,” you snap before Jade can even think about untangling herself from her new alien pet. You’re the fastest, and you’re (barely) armed. There will be no fucking debate. God, what you wouldn’t give for a sword right now.

You flashstep inside the alien ship. It’s basically an Apple store inside, except even more boring. You glance around, and spot the little box over at one end of a control panel. You flashstep over to it (not that the tiny ship would take that long to cross at a normal speed), and pick it up. It’s the same shade of blue as the alien, but more vivid without the tan spots. It’s about four inches by four inches by four inches. If he hadn’t been asking for it, you’d have guessed it was a paperweight, since it has no other features and no seams.

You would have flashstepped right out again, but next to the box is a small hologram being emitted by a small silver disc. In it are three Andalites. A small one, and two larger ones. A family photo. Was this his mate and kid? Knowing that he will die far from his family, that they may never find out what exactly happened to him, pains you in a way you would never admit to.

You flashstep next to the alien and drop the box in his hand. Seven fingers is so creepy. “What is it?” you ask.

<It is the Escafil device,> he says. <With it, you will have the power to morph. To turn into any creature you touch for a maximum of two hours. Exceed two hours, and you will be stuck as that creature for the rest of your life.>

“How the hell does that help?!” Jade all but shouted directly into his alien elf ears, making him flinch a little.

Nonetheless, he answers, <It will help you escape. They will not be looking for morphers here, where there are no Andalites.>

You swear you can hear those engines getting closer. The red lights glowing brighter. John tries to argue anyway, “But can’t you－”

“For fuck’s sake,” you snap. You grab John’s and Jade’s wrists and push their hands to the cube. “Lalonde, we ain’t got time!”

She hesitates only a second, then presses her hand to the box. You let go of John and Jade and touch a spare inch of surface. The alien closes his eyes and concentrates. You feel a jolt of energy run up your arm, and only now do you start to worry about radiation and cancer.

The alien’s eyes snap open, and he tosses the box away. <GO!> he yells. He looks up again, and, yep, the Yeerks are about 100 feet above you. <HURRY! NOW! RUN!>


	3. Chapter 3

You hear the engines cut out, and the Yeerk ships hit the ground. If you keep running, they’ll surely spot you when they come out. So you grab John by the collar and throw your weight so that the two of you skid to a stop behind a low wall, hoping to any potential higher powers that Jade notices and does the same with Rose. You’re pretty sure you just ruined the knees on your jeans. Jade tackle-rolls Rose right next to the two of you and doesn’t really get off Rose to peer over the edge of the wall. Still bracketed by Jade’s muscular legs, Rose crosses her arms and huffs. “You could have just _said_ ,” she whispers, and you can’t help but snicker.

You glance carefully over the edge of the low wall. You think the four of you are _probably_ far enough from the Andalite ship to not be noticed, but what do you know about aliens?

The two new Yeerk ships look a lot like bugs. They’re shaped kind of like cockroaches, but without the legs. (Why not? Legs would probably be useful for cushioning the landing instead of just straight up dropping the last few inches. Goddammit, Dave, focus on the actually important details.) There are a few bulbous windows at the head of each ship, which adds to the bug-like appearance. On either side of that head section are very long, sharp-looking, serrated spears.

Slowly, Jade’s head angles up, eyes widening in horror. “There’s more,” she whispers. She’s starting to shake a little. In the few months that you’ve known her, you have been given the very strong impression that Jade has no concept of what fear is. This, in itself, would be enough to shake you to the bones even without everything else.

With a sense of dread, you look. There’s another much, much larger ship above the others. It looks kinda like a giant battle axe, each blade housing one of those red-glowing engines, but it feels like a guillotine over your head. Even without seeing it, Rose must feel the same because she’s stopped pushing at Jade and grumbling to close her eyes and breathe deeply. Twin-sense.

God, shut up, you are _not_ twins. You can’t be. Her name is Lalonde. You’ve never met her before.

Jade finally realizes she’s sitting on Rose and moves carefully aside.

<That is the Blade ship,> says the voice in your head. <Do not worry; I can speak to you without being heard by the others. And no, I cannot read your mind. I saw where you fell. If you are to face this, then perhaps I may tell you who your enemies are. The Blade ship is the ship of Visser Three, my greatest shame. He is the only Yeerk with morphing ability.>

In the side of the Blade ship, a slice of light dashes through, then slides wider. The technology is very, very similar to the Andalite’s ship, but also different. Two developers using the same base code? You glance worriedly to John and wonder how in the hell one of the Yeerks got morphing power.

Rose glances over the wall and quickly clamps a hand over her own mouth before ducking down again, eyes wide and breath fast. You look back again to see what shook her so badly. <Hork-Bajir-Controllers,> the Andalite informs you. The creatures that come stomping out of the ship in military lines look like something straight out of hell. Seven- and eight-foot-tall lizards, standing on their hind legs like a human with their huge height balanced by a thick kangaroo tail. Each has a smallish lizard head on a long snake-like neck. But the truly hellish part is the blades. Every one of them is covered in blades designed to chop you into a thousand pieces before you can blink.

<The Hork-Bajir are a good people, despite their fearsome looks,> says the Andalite, and you snort in disbelief. Jade, however, frowns and glances to Rose, then to you and John. Is she evaluating your ability to survive these creatures? <But they have been completely enslaved by the Yeerks. Each of them now carries a Yeerk in their head. They are to be pitied.>

You’ve got some opinions on that idea, but you’re soon distracted by the next set of creatures. <Taxxon-Controllers,> says the Andalite. <The Taxxons are evil.> He offers no further information, and you don’t suppose he needs to. The Taxxons are centipede-like creatures as thick as trees, standing on hundreds of needle-like legs. The front third of their body, however, is held upright, and the legs on that end each end in a crab-like claw. They have huge red eyes like Jell-O molds. But the part that makes them utterly pants-shittingly terrifying is that the entire front of their face is a massive gaping maw of rows and rows of teeth. They look like a Sarlaac that decided to get up and walk.

They spread out to guard the area, getting uncomfortably close to your little hideaway. Many members of both species hold what are quite obviously laser-pistols modeled for their respective hands/claws. So at least if they don’t maul you to death, there’s a good chance they’ll burn you to a crisp. Fun!

<Visser Three.>

In the doorway of the Blade ship, a silhouette appears. A silhouette you’ve already seen once today. “What?” says John, and you immediately clamp your hand over his mouth, but you feel like screaming. Near you, however, is one Hork-Bajir guard that swivels its head toward the four of you. Before it can spot you, Visser Three proclaims, in all his evil villain glory, <Well, well. What have we here? A meddling Andalite?>

<He does not know you are here,> the injured Andalite quickly warns us as Visser Three tromps down the short ramp to the rubble and dirt and across to the Andalite who lies on the ground. <Stay quiet.> The injured Andalite visibly struggles, muscles quivering, and uses his tail to help himself balance as he pushes up to his feet. Hooves? He looks like he’s going to fall at any second, but he remains standing, all four eyes staring down Visser Three in defiance.

You think you like this guy.

You’re pretty sure he’s going to die.

You’re absolutely certain that there’s not one fucking thing you can do about it.

<Ah, but no ordinary Andalite warrior,> says Visser Three as he comes to stand so very casually in front of the injured Andalite’s taut, quaking form. <Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul, if I am not mistaken. An honor to meet you again. You’ve become a legend. How many of our fighters have you shredded tonight? Seven, or was it eight by the time the battle ended?>

You kind of hope it was a dozen, just for this guy’s pretentious tone if not the fact that he’s a pure fucking evil alien invader.

Elfangor doesn’t answer, so Visser Three keeps going. <The very last Andalite in this sector of space,> he says. <Yes, I’m afraid your Dome ship has been completely destroyed. Completely. I watched it burn as it fell into the atmosphere of this little world.>

<There will be others,> says Elfangor.

Visser Three steps up in Elfangor’s space, and though Elfangor flinches, he doesn’t back down. <Yes,> says Visser Three, <and, when they come, it will be too late. This world will be mine. My own contribution to the Yeerk Empire. Our greatest conquest. And then I’ll be Visser One.>

<What do you want with these humans?> Elfangor demands. His “voice,” if you can call it that, holds tones of disgust and worry. <You have your Taxxon allies. You have your Hork-Bajir slaves. And so many slaves from other worlds. Why must you take these people, too?>

_Why do you care?_ you can’t help wondering.

<Because there are so many, and they are so weak,> Visser Three sneers. <Billions of bodies! And they have no idea what’s happening. With this many hosts, we can spread throughout the universe, unstoppable! Billions of us! We’ll have to build a thousand new Yeerk pools just to raise Yeerks for half this number of bodies. Face it, Andalite, you have fought well and bravely, but you have lost.> He steps even closer, and you can feel Elfangor’s fear. And yet still, Elfangor stands. <I promise you one thing, Prince Elfangor － when we have this planet, with its rich harvest of bodies, we will move against the Andalite homeworld. I will personally hunt down your family. And I will personally oversee the placement of my most faithful lieutenants in their heads. I hope that they will resist, so I can hear their minds scream.>

In a barely visible blur of motion, Elfangor’s tail whips out, scythe-like blade slicing through the air. But Visser Three twists aside, and Elfangor misses his head by less than an inch, slicing instead into Visser Three’s shoulder. Bluish blood sprays from the wound, and Visser Three leaps back with a scream of pain as Hork-Bajir-Controllers tackle Elfangor to the ground.

At the same time, there is a flash of blue-white, and the Andalite’s ship blasts one of the Bug fighters which proceeds to then dissolve into atoms. You can feel the blast of heat against your face, and you duck back down on instinct.

<Fire!> Visser Three orders. <Burn his ship!>

What once was a dark night filled with vague silhouettes is suddenly as bright as day. “Strider!” Rose hisses, grabbing your arm. “Look!”

When you look up again, though, the light has vanished. “What?” you ask.

She scowls into the darkness. “There were hum－” Jade grabs her mouth and gestures to shut up. Your Hork-Bajir guard has moved closer and is peering into the darkness.

<Hold him for me.>

The Hork-Bajir’s attention swerves back to the action, and you all let out that breath you’d been holding. There’s a sound you don’t recognize, and, carefully, you peer up over the wall again.

Visser Three is growing. He swells at a rapid rate. Like he’s exploding, except he never comes apart. Flesh just bubbles up on top of flesh, with more flesh sprouting on top of that. He grows huge. Bigger than your shitty little bedroom. Bigger than John’s upper-Suburbia bedroom. His four legs merge into two and grow thick as trees. Those puny Andalite arms turn into writhing tentacles. The stalk eyes disappear. A huge mouth bursts across the remains of his face like an open wound, and from it sprout teeth as long as your arm.

John clasps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from making noise, but he can’t turn away from the scene, even with tears streaming down his face. You have officially lost your chill. Your chill has died, and you have attended its funeral and laid down some pretty words on its behalf for the crowd of gathered mourners, and you are now banging its widow. That is how far fucking gone your chill is.

Suddenly, a sense of calm washes over you. You glance again to your right, and John’s hyperventilation eases, and his hand drops slightly away from his mouth, even though he’s still watching with wide, horrified eyes. To your left, Rose is frowning in confusion, and Jade is clutching her chest, head bowed in quiet grief. You look to the Andalite. One eye is looking toward you, though it is careful to still move a little, to pretend to be scanning the surroundings. He did this. He’s facing down a monster from hell, and he’s sending out his last ounce of peace to the four of you, to help a handful of kids make it through this with their sanity intact.

You don’t want him to die.

You can’t save him.

“RRRRAAAWWWWGGG!” the monster roars, and you cover your ears with your hands. “RRRRRRAAAAGGG!” You swear you can feel your teeth rattle.

It grabs up Elfangor in its massive tentacles, and Jade tackles Rose and clamps a hand over her mouth only a split second after the idiot burst to her feet on pure, reckless instinct. The both of them are crying. You make the mistake of looking back.

Visser Three lifts Elfangor up in the air. The Andalite twists and struggles, slashes with his tailblade, but it’s no good. The monster hardly notices. It lifts him up.

And then it drops him.

Straight into its massive, ugly maw.

Taxxons surge forward to grab up the scrap of leg that falls out from between Visser Three’s teeth, and you throw up like a fountain of stale pizza and apple juice. Oops.


	4. Chapter 4

The Hork-Bajir’s head swerves toward you, and you’ve already pulled Egbert and the girls up running before you can even think about it.

“GHAFRASH FIT! ENEMY! GET!”

Huh. English. Sort of.

John trips, but you and Jade grab him and drag him along with you anyway. The Hork-Bajir are bounding after you like demonic fucking kangaroos. You’re going to die. You make the mistake of looking back, and you nearly fall over John when he trips _again_.

Suddenly, with the grin of a motherfucking maniac, Jade turns on her heel to face down the nearest Hork-Bajir. “BECQUEREL, SIC!”

You have no idea where this demondog has just launched itself from, but you never thought you’d be this happy to see any animal, much less that hulking eyeless freak. You and John and Rose take off again, Jade soon rejoining you. “We need to split up!” John shouts, and Jade nods, hauling Rose off to the right. You promptly swerve left, heading in the general direction of your place instead of John’s. There’s a lot less development between here and there, and you hope to god that’s to your advantage instead of theirs.

Ahaha, nope, you fall face first over another low wall and twist your ankle. John tries to lift you up, but you can hear the Hork-Bajir voices coming closer. “Ghafrash fit!” they call. “Get enemy! Kill!”

“Go!” you hiss, pushing him away.

“What?!” It honestly hasn’t even occurred to him, that beautiful idiot. “No, man! Come on!”

“John, I am _limping_ , and they are _leaping_!” I snap. “What do you think your dad is going to say if I let you die?!”

“No, I won’t!”

“Ghafrash fit nahar! I kill!”

You pull him by the collar, coil your muscles as tight as possible, and throw him backward away from you. “Go!” you shout.

The idiot still grabs for you. “Get up, asshole!”

“I GET! I KILL!”

“Hey, assholes!” Jade screams somewhere in the distance. “Hey, over here! Ugly slugs butts are ugly! Come get me!”

The Hork-Bajir hesitate. They peer toward you, and John shoves you down so your ghost-white skin and hair stop acting as a motherfucking beacon in the moonlight.

“What are you guys?! Weenies? Geeze! WAAH WAAH!! What babies!”

The Hork-Bajir runs after her, and with a delighted squeal she runs off again, the sounds of Hork-Bajir calls and growls and barks trailing after her.

You take a deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. No one comes for you. You look over at John, whose face is like an inch from yours. “Your breath smells,” you tell him.

He punches you in the arm. “You ever tell me to go without you again, I promise I will kill you myself,” he whines, leaning against the wall with a huff.

“Ha, no you won’t,” you tease. “We hobble away when the coast is clear?” He nods in assent.

“Humans?” someone says behind you, and both you and John duck further down, clamping hands over your mouths like that can make your breathing less loud. “How much do you think they saw?”

“I don’t know.” You know that voice. Where do you know that voice from? “If we’re lucky, it’s just some idiot kids walking by from the mall. We’ll get them eventually. I’ve got the middle school handled.” The voices move away from you, and before John can stop you, you glance around the side of the wall. It’s dark, but you are damn certain that is your principal’s back retreating from you.

Well, you are fucked.

* * *

 

It’s not until an hour later that you finally limp up to the door of your shitty ass apartment. John insisted on taking the elevator. You’re limping, not dead, you told him, to which he just gave you a _very_ pointed look and dragged you in anyway. You grope around for your keys in your pocket, but, shockingly, they seem to have fallen out somewhere along the way. John decides to just try the doorknob, and it’s unlocked. You push off of him to hobble inside, unwilling to let Bro see you look far more feeble than you actually are.

Oh wow, you are a lot more exhausted than you thought. You’re only one step inside when you decide to lean against the doorframe. You lift a finger in salute. “‘Sup.”

Bro stops in the middle of whatever line he was delivering to Rufioh Nitram, the both of them sitting on the couch watching some stupid movie while eating Chinese takeout, and stares at you for a moment, taking in your dirty, bruised, slightly bloody, and exhausted form. “What’d ya do?” he asks. Even in complete monotone, his suspicion is clear.

“Played in the construction site,” you lie. You step aside so John can come in and close the door. You’d had him text his dad on the way over, saying he’d been at your house for a while, working on homework, and had decided to stay the night so the two of you could keep working on it. It’s the first time John has ever lied to his dad, and you think it’s hurt him just as badly as everything else that’s happened tonight.

“What?” cries Rufioh, concerned helicopter mom even for kids that aren’t his. (The way he gets around, you’re kind of surprised he’s only got the one.) “Why would you do that? That place is dangerous!”

You shrug casually. “Bro said it was okay.”

Rufioh shoots him a glare, and Bro bounces it your way. “Traitor,” Bro drawls. He nods toward John. “You bring Egbert ’round jus’ so you won’t be stuck eatin’ soup?”

“Dude, you've really gotta learn the difference between ‘sauce’ an' ‘soup,’” you tell him.

“Why do I need to learn that, when you can just show up on time and order whatever the hell you like?” Bro says. Rufioh hisses some chastisement, but Bro straight up ignores him. Instead, Bro stands, stretches out his back, and heads over to the “kitchen” (read: three feet of counter space) to pick up a takeout menu. “Alright, time to order more food before I get another concerned letter from Dadbert. Whatcha feelin’ like, John?”

“Oh. Uh.” John has always been awkward around Bro, but now he’s just blinking at him like he’s trying to remember where he left his brain last time he used it. “What was the question?”

With Bro’s head tilted, you can catch him blink in surprise behind his pointy anime shades. He turns back to the two of you, a hint of a frown playing at the edge of his lips. “Did you get beat up?” he asks, tactful as ever.

You shrug. “Not today.”

“Not today?” he repeats.

“Drop it, Bro.”

He drops the menu back on the counter. Haha, hilarious. He turns to you, arms crossed, lips pressed in a thin line. “You’re lyin’ to me ’bout somethin’, little man.”

Huh, so that’s what the last straw feels like. You find yourself laughing your ass off, and your brother is staring at you like you’ve gone crazy. You feel like maybe you have. That would certainly explain a lot about the last few hours. “Who the fuck is Rose Lalonde?” you demand, and John flinches.

“I’m just… gonna… leave,” Rufioh mumbles from the couch behind you. Bro ignores him, just arching an eyebrow at you. “I dunno, Bro,” he drawls slowly. “Who _is_ Rose Lalonde?”

You shrug the most aggressive shrug that has ever been shrugged. “Just some broad I ran into in the mall today,” you tell him. “Some broad who looks like me.”

He tilts his head a little. You hear the door open and close. “What, another albino?” he says. Is he playing dumb or is he actually dumb? No, no way. He’s twenty years older than you. He was there for your birth. If you had a twin, he had to have seen it. Yeah, twin. There's absolutely no other way you could be so completely identical.

“Yes, she’d have to be albino, considering that she is my _identical fucking twin_!” you snarl. Yeah, your chill is still dead. No zombie resurrection happening here. Time to pack up the priests and go home.

“What?” he deadpans. “Dave, you don’t have a twin.”

“Funny, that’s what I assumed to!” you shout. “Guess you weren’t just fucking evasive about our family, but you’re also a liar!”

He actually clucks his tongue at you. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he says. “So there’s some girl that reminds you of－”

“You think I don’t know what my own girly-ass reflection looks like?!” You’re pretty sure China can hear you right now. Good. Let the universe know that your bro is a massive  _dick_.

That actually gives him pause. Of course you know what you look like. Of course you know what she looks like. Of course when you say _twin_ you mean motherfucking _genetically identical_.

He glances to John. John steps behind you. “She, uh… Yeah, she looks… She looks like Dave.”

He looks to you again. “Rose Lalonde?” he repeats.

“Another flower,” you point out. “Super subtle.”

He almost frowns. “Dave, I swear I haven’t been fucking hiding any sisters from you. This is the first I’ve heard about it!”

“And what, you just neglected to notice two of us coming out of the same vagina?!” you demand. “Or are you going to stick with the ‘must be a coincidence’ story?”

“I didn’t _see_ any goo-covered brat,” he says slowly.

“Great. Mystery solved. Must've made it up.” You grab John and pull him toward your room. “We’re going to sleep. School tomorrow.”

“Dave, I swear I don’t know anything about this!” he shouts after you.

You slam your door.

John is watching you. “You gonna be okay?” he asks.

You blink at him for a moment before realizing he can’t see it. “Yeah,” you say. Monotone. “I'm chill.”

John nods. Rubs his neck. Looks around your room. “So, uh… Does this mean we _don’t_ get food?”


	5. Chapter 5

Bro definitely feels guilty about something, because he ordered you and John an extra-large meat lovers’ pizza, enough to serve as dinner _and_ breakfast for two growing boys, and bothered you only long enough to enter your room, deposit it on your lap, and leave.

By the next morning, he has swung over to the other side of the spectrum of guilty behavior by trying way too hard to pretend everything is normal. He wakes you up with an airhorn a mere half hour before the school bus is supposed to arrive and berates you through pizza-breakfast about the fact that the papers say that kids were setting off fireworks in the construction site last night. You kind of wonder how he discovered this fact when he doesn’t read the paper. Your only reply is to point out that none of his fireworks are missing and announce that you will stop lying about shit when he does.

On the bus, John openly wonders why the paper would say something so very untrue which gets him elbowed in the ribs. You cast a glance around, but no one seems to have noticed. You slouch in your seat and mumble, “Body snatchers.”

He looks at you with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Quietly,” you mumble. “You do remember what _actually_ happened, right?”

“I kind of hoped it was all a bad dream,” he admits in a whisper. “But that got thrown out the window when you and your brother were _still_ having a massive argument this morning.”

You snort. “Dude, that wasn’t massive. We didn’t even strife.”

“Um, yeah,” he says. “That’s kinda what I mean.”

You think about that. Considering how often the two of you strife to celebrate an achievement, John might have a point. “Okay, well, point is, there were people there. Which means they already have a bunch of human hosts,” you whisper. “So probably, the cops are lying about it so that people will feel comfortable enough to call them up all like ‘Oh, hey, yeah, I totally know a kid that was in the construction site last night.’”

“Which you told your brother and his boyfriend you were,” John points out.

You groan and rub your eye under your shades. “Yeah, that was dumb,” you admit. “Can we just agree to blame exhaustion for that one?”

John smirks. All smiles, even now. “Yeah, sure buddy.”

“We need to find Harley and Lalonde as quickly as possible,” you say. “Make it clear that everybody needs to keep quiet. After school, we can get together and decide what to do about this.”

“What do you mean?” asks John, confused. “What could we do about it?”

You run a hand back through your hair and slump even further down in your seat. “I have no idea,” you admit.

Finding Rose isn’t hard. She’s standing by a bank of lockers, chatting with the principal’s kid of all fucking people. You remember how last night the principal had been confident she’d be able to easily root out which kids had been at the crash site, and you immediately flashstep to her side. “Hey, can I talk to you?” you say. You don’t actually wait for an answer before grabbing Rose by the elbow and hauling her away through the crowd of students while Kanaya Maryam is left staring in confusion at the empty spot that Rose had recently occupied.

“Strider, what the hell?” Rose demands, trying to pull her arm out of your grip.

“Keep walking,” you mumble, barely moving your lips. You don’t really want to be overheard. You pull her into a dark well under the stairs, away from the crowd and out of sight of the cameras. It’s usually where the sketchy older kids engage in blatantly illegal activities, but it’s too early in the day for that shit. You finally drop her elbow and tell her, “Porrim Maryam is a Controller.”

She watches you for a moment, rubbing her elbow. Finally, she rolls her eyes to the ceiling, takes a deep breath, and calmly says, “You do realize that I only got here a few days ago?”

“And we just found out about aliens yesterday,” you say. “What’s your point?”

“My point, Strider, is that I have no idea who Porrim Maryam is or why you’ve publicly carted me through the halls in an extremely suspicious manner to deliver this fact.” Ugh, her words are back. Why are there so many of them?

Your lips tip just slightly into a snarl. “The Bitch of Sorrows? Our principal, Lalonde. Honestly, do you not know how to be a new kid? The first thing you do is find out the most hated adults and avoid the hell out of them.”

Rose frowns thoughtfully, crosses her arms, and tilts her hips. “Which is why you pulled me away from Kanaya,” she says. “No, I don’t know how to ‘be the new kid,’ as you put it. I went to a private school until I was so suddenly and rudely transferred this godforsaken village on the opposite coast from home. So, I suppose I must apologize for being a little slow to come into certain knowledge and realizations.”

Mentally, you pull apart her words until you find some meaning in them. “You’re from the Northeast?” you say. “God, no wonder I hate you.”

“Dave?” Jade calls, and you poke your head out from under the stairs, to see that she and John have successfully tracked you. You gesture for her to come over.

Rose eyes you carefully. “May I infer from your drawling accent that you are from the southeast?”

“Southwest,” you correct. “Texas.”

“Ah.” She’s still eying you carefully, but you’re not sure what she’s digging for. “Your father called my house last night.”

“Hey, Harley,” you greet. “So just in case Egbert didn’t－” Rose’s words catch up with you. “My _what_?” you demand.

She cocks an eyebrow at you, and you are getting super tired of that expression already. “Is Dirk Strider not your guardian?” she asks.

“Guardian, not father,” you inform her. “He’s my bro.”

She actually does look embarrassed, which you weren’t expecting but take a vindictive pleasure in. “My apologies,” she says more earnestly than her previous apologies. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

“Actually, I kind of thought he was your dad, too,” John admitted.

“What?” you demand. “Dude, you’ve known me for years now. He has always been Bro.”

“Yeah, but I thought that was just what you called him,” John said. “Dude’s twenty years older than you, man, and he won’t tell you what happened to your parents, saying shit like ‘They were there during the tragic crocodile attack on Wall Street.’”

“He’s clearly traumatized,” you counter, “and it’s very rude of you to point it out. For shame. Hasn’t Dadbert raised you better than this?”

Rose has that “you are a fascinating specimen, and I would like to freeze dry you and add you to my collection” look on her face again, and wow, you hope that’s a metaphorical facial expression, because the girl has way too much in common with you as it is. You decide to cut her off before she can start digging in her psychoanalytical claws. “So he called you last night?” you ask.

“Not me,” she says. “My mother. I told him it was two in the morning and even if she wasn’t inebriated, she’d be sleeping, like I should have been. He promptly hung up, and I had to Google the number to find out who he was.”

You would apologize for anything she may have come across during that Google search, but a more important detail has caught your attention. “You… you have a mom?”

Rose hesitates, eying you carefully. You do a quick mental check to make sure your facial expressions and body language are on total lockdown. Oh, hey, you’re leaning in a little. Who told your spine to do that? Gonna have to send it back to the factory. Hope the warranty’s still good. “Yes, Roxy Lalonde,” she tells you. “She’s a genetic engineer, most recently employed by the Betty Crocker Corporation. That’s why we moved here.”

Jade frowns at that. “What does the Batterwitch need with a genetic engineer?” she asks.

Rose shrugs. “I think she’s working on a sweeter breed of corn,” she says. The conversation is interrupted by the warning bell, and she sighs. “Look, this truly is fascinating, but we can’t stand here being incredibly suspicious all day. Let us gather at my house after school, to discuss all that was illuminated last night. For the time being, is there anyone besides Principal Maryam and her daughter that anyone feels should be more strongly avoided than the rest?”

“We’re avoiding Porrim and Kanaya?” Jade repeated, confused. “How come?”

“Principal Maryam was at the site,” John tells her. “She said she could easily figure out any kids that happened to see what went down.”

“Does that mean I can’t go to book club with Karkat?” Jade whines. By ‘book club,’ she means that stupid as hell romance club that only got permission to exist because Maryam was roped into sponsoring it herself, despite always being busy with this Sharing Club thing, as though she’d taken it as a personal challenge to come up with an even dumber club.

You shake your head. “No Vantases. No Captors. No Leijons. And, just for good measure, no Serkets.” When John opens his mouth, you cut him off, “Seriously, John, we have no idea who to trust, and she was untrustworthy even before then. I know it takes effort for you, but not telling people things isn’t actually that hard.”

“No, I suppose it might actually be kind of soft,” says Rose. “Rather like a suggestively constructed lump of plush felt.”

The bitch is grinning at you, while Jade and John snicker. Traitors. She quickly edges past them and out of the stairwell. “We should get to class before we’re noticeably late,” she says, pulling Jade along after her.

You make your own exit at a more casual pace, knowing John will follow you to class. “John, you know how I’m always saying that I’m too cool to help with your prank wars?”

He looks confused for a second, then his eyes widen with realization and he glances back the way Rose and Jade had gone. “Did you change your mind?” he asks. If he was a puppy, he’d be wagging his little ass so hard right now that it could be used to generate power for the whole state.

“I have changed my mind so hard.”


	6. Chapter 6

The cat that crawls into your lap has four eyes. “You said your mother is a geneticist?” you ask super subtly. You’re straining your back with how far you are leaning away from the cat, making shooing motions to try to motivate it to leave. It just stares at you cluelessly and blinks, first the left eyes, then the right eyes. What the ever loving fuck?

“Yes, the cats are her little hobby,” says Rose, who is fucking _knitting_ while you wait for Jade and John. “I have a hypothesis that the act is intended as indirect commentary on our personal relationship.”

“Wait, did you just say ‘cats’?” you ask. “As in plural?”

She glances up from her knitting. Tilts her head at you. “David, if I had known you had a pressing aversion to felines, I could have asked Mother to distract them,” she says. “Honestly, no one is requiring you to posture constantly.”

You’re about to rip into her assumptions when you feel something rub against your back. “Fuckingshithellassnuggets,” you grumble, trying to move away from the beast at your back and the freak at your front at the same time.

“Meowgarita!” Rose calls, and the one at your back steps away and looks around your side. Oh hey, only three eyes. Is that better or worse? “Cosmewpolitan!” The one in your lap turns to her as well. What’s worse? The names or the fact that they know them? “Catquiri!” Yet another jumps down from the bookshelf. Holy fucking shit, it has two heads. “Mai Tail!” Another comes out from under the bed with three tails and only three legs. Finally, Rose picks up a ball of yarn, waggles it at the four of them, and throws it out the door. They give chase. “Shut the door, David,” she says, and you think you have never moved so fast.

Once the door is shut, you double check that your recently refreshed chill has not been warmed and your expressions don’t give away how traumatized you are by her precious purrballs. “Dave isn’t short for David,” you tell her. “It’s just Dave.”

“My mistake,” she says without looking up from her knitting.

“How many of those things do you have?” you demand.

She shrugs. “There’s only a few dozen that I see often enough to remember the names of. Beyond that, I can’t say. It has become difficult to measure the death rate since I informed Mother that it was impractical to attend an elaborate funeral every day. Nor am I sure of the birth rate since she never creates them while I’m looking, possessing instead the distraction of her daughter’s attention.”

“That’s fucking insane,” you tell her.

She just shrugs again. “They do keep the property clear of birds, mice, insects, reptiles, and other small pests.”

“But at what cost, Lalonde?” You pull your iPhone and bring up the Pesterchum app.

turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering ectoBiologist (EB)  
TG: where u at  
EB: i told dad i made a new friend, and now i’m buried in cakes! D:  
EB: send help!  
TG: hell no this is your own fault  
TG: this is the confectionary bed your truths made for you and now you will have to lie in it

“As I said, like any predator species, they are predisposed toward destruction of their own environment once they number too many.”

“Predators are predisposed to destruction, huh?” you say. “You think that’s why the aliens are invading?”

turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering gardenGnostic (GG)  
TG: where u at  
gardenGnostic (GG) is unavailable!

Rose sets down her knitting and looks into the middle space while she thinks. “Well, first of all, once the species in question achieves sentience and sapience, the issue becomes a lot more complex as psychology and political sciences come into play. Secondly, I was referring to incidental destruction of the predator’s own natural environment due to stress on every resource. For the Yeerks to count as our predator would necessitate considering every planet within access to them as their natural environment, and that does seem a bit of a stretch to me. Finally, I cannot say for sure, given how recent and shallow our introduction to these species has been, but I’m not sure Yeerks or Andalites are either predators.”

Hm, she has a point. “Yeah, the Andalite thing is odd. They have a tailblade, but they also have eyes specifically designed to give them a view of their entire surroundings. Yeerks, though… Slugs, man, there’s no way they weren’t somebody’s food. They’ve got no defense unless they get a body, and how did that even happen? Something fell on them ear-first and the slug thinks ‘oh, hey, let’s give brain control a try!’ How does a slug even gain sentience in the first place? That’s gotta be nature’s cruelest joke.”

GG: hi dave!!! im almost there just give me a sec ok? i dont want to damage roses house!  
TG: wtf

Rose is peering at you again. “I must admit, I’m never quite sure what to do with you when you agree with me.”

“Well, luckily, you’re not right very often.”

She smirks, not remotely insulted. You’re gonna have to up your game for this broad. Do you still want to push her away? After the alien thing, you’re kind of stuck together, aren’t you? Well, upping your Antisocialite Meter should at least make her as uncomfortable with the situation as you are. She returns to her knitting and asks, “So may I infer that you also have an interest in the zoologically dubious?”

“The…? You mean weird animals? God, you talk like Bro.” You cross your arms and lean against a wall, enjoying the way her mouth just twitched downward and her brow furrowed slightly. You pretend to yourself that you had actually put thought into that statement for the sole purpose of eliciting such a reaction and that you had not created the result by accident. “Nah, man, I just like cool shit.”

She glances up at you over her needles. “All cool shit?”

“Only the coolest shit ever.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sounds exhausting.”

You both nearly jump out of your skins when Jade knocks on the window. Before Rose can put down her knitting, you storm over, lift the window, and glare down at Jade and her doofy smile. “Who the hell forgot to teach you about doors, Harley?” you demand.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly as she rolls through the window onto the floor like the world’s most ninja bowling ball. “I got here just after your brother did, and I didn’t want to interrupt him and Ms. Lalonde.”

“My－ he－ _what_?” you demand. You don’t wait for an answer. You’re out the door in a flash, skidding to a stop at the end of the hall. You can hear their voices on the main floor below you.

“What do you mean he－ she’s yours?” your bro drawls.

Oh, wow, is that the sound of the closet door slamming shut behind you on your way in? Funny, you don’t remember wandering into there.

“Well, like Rosie!” a feminine voice chirps. And then hiccups. You glance over your shoulder at Rose as she and Jade finally join you. You mouth the name “Rosie” questioningly, and she stop shorts and makes a valiant attempt to drop dead of pure mortification. Your Shit-Stirrer Gauge goes up a notch. Score.

“So you… you gave birth to her?” asks Bro.

She laughs. “Of curse I did!”

“Which hospital?” he presses. When she doesn’t answer, he repeats, “Which. Hospital. Did. You. Give. Birth. At.”

“I… I don’ rem’ber,” she says. Suddenly, she sounds small and lost and fragile. You glance over your shoulder at Rose, but she’s just frowning. She doesn’t look concerned. What have these two been doing to each other the past thirteen years? Suddenly, Momlonde laughs it off. “Well, iss been a while, huh? I’m sure there’s, like, files or some’in!” Wow, those are so very slurred s-sounds. You remember Rose mentioning that her Mom was passed-out drunk last night when Bro called the house, but it’s not even five o’clock yet.

“You’re a geneticist,” he says. “Did you make them?”

“The fuck?” you hiss. Oops, was that out loud? At least Rose seems to share your sentiments, rolling her eyes at him.

“Of curse, I did!” she chirps drunkenly.

“For how long?” Bro presses.

“What?”

“For how long were you Daisy’s mother?”

Again, there’s a long pause. When she speaks again, you can’t make out the words. “Goddammit,” you mumble.

“She said that she wasn’t,” Jade whispers. She edges closer to the stairs to hear better. “She says, she doesn’t remember ever having you, but she knows that she did. She… she’s crying now.”

“Well, thanks for nothing,” your douchebag of a brother grumbles.

“Wait!” Momlonde cries suddenly. “Wait, chu… You’ve got pichures of my Daisy. Are you… Where’d ja find her?”

“On my couch,” Bro drawls. The words drip venomously, and you’re so confused as to why this obfuscating answer sounds so much like an accusation.

“D’you rember buyin’ it?” asks Momlonde.

“What? The couch?”

“Where y’ live,” says Momlonde. “D’you rember signin’ for it? Payin’ for it? Is it your name on the lease, or did the owner jus’ forget to kick y’ out?”

“Lady, you’re fucking crazy,” Bro snarls, like he hadn’t just barged into her house asking questions about his own sibling’s birth.

Momlonde just says “Oh.” A short moment later, you hear the front door slam.

“Oh shit!” Jade hisses, quickly backing away on all fours. “She’s coming upstairs! Hurry!”

You all scramble to your feet and hurry back to Rose’s room. But the second she opens the door, a huge bowl of confetti cake batter falls on her head, and John falls on his ass laughing in the middle of the room. “Egbert, you have the worst timing,” you groan.

“Huh?” he gasps through the laughter. “How is there _ever_ a bad time for pranks?!”

Rose takes a step forward, and you think she’s going to break his fucking nose, and you’re about to flashstep over to stop her, but then you’re all interrupted by a call of “Rosie?”

Everyone freezes.

Roxy Lalonde pokes her head inside the room, raises an eyebrow, then says, “Oh, honey, if y' wanted to some treass for yur friends, y' coulda just said.”


	7. Chapter 7

Rose makes a chart, and Jade’s Guinness-worthy memory fills it in. You contribute by drawing conclusions, while John contributes by second-guessing them. Rose is starting to get antsy as she attempts to restrain her psychoanalytical instincts. (Shrinkstincts.) The four of you were supposed to meet to discuss what to do about the aliens, but now you’re discussing what the fuck your brother is up to. You’re not convinced these subjects are entirely unrelated.

While Rose had showered off the cake batter and changed, her mother had returned with refreshed makeup and very obviously prepackaged snacks (Betty Crocker brand, you’re guessing, based on John’s reaction) served on expensive as fuck and absurdly tiny china like it’s a goddamn tea party. There is also tea, so maybe she thinks it is. She then promptly dumped a mutant cat on each lap and left. (Jade was kind enough to take all three cats.) Rose seemed not at all surprised to return to this scene, took a sip of tea, and dug out a notebook and pens. She shoved the tea set aside, put the notebook in the middle of your circle, and handed you each a colored pen. You’re not sure how she already knows your preferred chat text color. You don't even know her handle.

The chart is simple. Two columns. On the left is “Dirk Strider.” It lists, in order:

  1. knows roses mom
    1. or googled her when dave gave him rose’s name.
  2. did not know that ms lalonde gave birth to them
    1. or wanted to make sure roxy didnt remember
  3. did not know where they were born
    1. or wanted to make sure roxy didnt remember
  4. didnt lease his apartment????
    1. nah he did i was there
    2. might have been talking about texas?
    3. the fuck does she know about texas
    4. Boys, you are sitting right across from each other. Please do not use this list for discussions.

On the right side of the page is “Roxy Lalonde.” It lists, in order:

    1. calls both rose and dave hers
    2. She has not yet recognized Dave.
      1. because dave is avoiding the hell out of her!
    3. She seems to have drank away her memory on the subject, but it is equally likely that she is merely pretending to have done so.
    4. made us with science
      1. might have misunderstood what mr strider meant?
      2. Considering that we don’t have four eyes, I think it is a strong probability that this is not what she meant.
    5. never raised dave

Ouch. That last one stings. No matter how the facts line up, it’s pretty obvious that you’ve got a real, living mom, and when she decided that she only needed one baby, you didn’t make the cut. She is _probably_ not Bro's mom. They're both albino with African features, but otherwise Bro and Roxy look nothing alike, while you and Rose look like both of them. You shove these thoughts aside for one you can actually do something about. “Right, so Bro’s an alien.”

Everyone looks at you like you’ve suddenly sprouted candy-striped horns. “May I inquire as to what has lead you to this conclusion?” asks Rose.

“He’s acting completely out of character,” you say, gesturing emphatically to your multi-colored list. “Bro may be evasive and cagey, but he’s never lied like this before.”

“Well, we don’t know he’s lying,” says John. “He hasn’t said much, period.”

You snort. “Fine. I’ll test the theory, then.” You pull your phone out of your pocket and bring up Pesterchum again. His handle is marked as idle, but you fire off a message anyway.

turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering timaeusTestified (TT)  
TG: where u at  
TT: Dave, you know I only have one setting.  
TG: oddly evasive for a simple question  
TT: Jesus. I’m at the apartment, Mom. Why?

“He could have returned by now,” Rose points out.

“It’s the other side of town, but sure,” you say. You press on.

TG: just wonderin  
TG: cuz you werent there when i stopped by after school  
TT: Wow, that is such an obvious fucking lie, I’m not sure why you bothered, Bro. I was getting more supplies.  
TT: Where the hell are you, by the way?

John’s shoulders slump in disappointment, but you grow tense. Wired. If you could punch the guy through the phone, you would.

“Maybe it’s just your bro being weird,” Jade tries to reassure you. “He might not be a Yeerk.”

TG: haha its great how you can bitch at me for lying while lying to me  
TG: im at roses  
TG: have been for a while  
TT: Oh.  
TG: yeah oh  
TG: care to explain  
TT: Believe it or not, Dave, as the actual responsible adult in this party, I don’t actually owe you explanations for my behavior.

Yeah, you kind of want to throw up. You’re done with this conversation.

turntechGodhead (TG) has blocked timaeusTestified (TT)!  
TT: Dave, we both know the block function doesn’t actually do anything.  
TT: Shit.

He tries to call you, but you press ignore.

TT: Dave, you have to come home eventually, and when you do, we are having a very loud discussion about your attitude recently.

You turn off Pesterchum. Everyone you care about talking to is in the room with you anyway.

“I don’t really wish to be the one to point this out, but, _if_ you are correct in your assumption that your brother has become possessed by an extraterrestrial entity, is it not in your best interest to make amends?” asks Rose. “After all… He is correct. You do have to return home eventually.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek and glance around at your friends, wondering who you can stay with and for how long. You stay with John all the time, but if you try to do it for more than a night at a time, it’s possible his dad will try to turn you over to Bro for your own benefit. If you made up some shit about him abusing you, cops would get involved, and you’re already pretty damn sure that most of them are infested. Also, it’s possible the charges could stick when some of his behaviors do look that way from the outside, now that you think of it.

When you look to Jade, you notice the cats in her lap. “Yeah, you’re right,” you say. You surprise everyone by reaching forward and grabbing a four-eyed but otherwise normal-looking black cat by the scruff of its neck. “I do have to go home.”

“You want to morph?!” Jade squeals, scaring away her own cats. “Oh, man, I was waiting for us to get to that part, but I didn’t want to be rude, but I’ve already morphed Bec, and guys it’s awesome! I’m pretty sure I had superpowers, though maybe that’s Bec and not the morphing thing?”

“Jade, are you sure your dog’s not an alien?” John asks, teasing.

Jade laughs at that. “Well, of course, he is, silly!” she says. “I don’t think most dogs can teleport!”

You all exchange glances. This is the first you’ve heard about Becquerel teleporting, but… actually, it explains a lot. The cat squirms a bit in your hand. “... Okay, let’s just table that for later,” you decide. “Jade, you’ve done it once already. How ‘bout you lay down some mad instruction?”

She laughs and tells you, “Concentrate on the cat. On its physical form and every detail. The way it feels in your hand. The cat should zone out.”

“Um, it’s already surprisingly docile, but sure.” You stare at the cat. Black fur. Four eyes. (God, so creepy.) Little mouth. Lots of pointy needle teeth. Paws. Claws. About twenty ounces of pure predator.

The cat stops squirming and gradually nods off.

“Huh,” you say. You’re kind of surprised anything actually happened. Though, you suppose the cat could just be sleepy.

“Okay, now, put it down, close your eyes, and concentrate on the cat’s image in your mind,” she tells you. “Think about becoming the cat. Your hands turning to paws. That kind of thing.”

You close your eyes and concentrate. Now that you’ve committed to doing this, it’s suddenly a lot more weird and inexplicably embarrassing. You wish you’d decided to do it at home. Grabbed one of the crows on the roof or something.

You’re so startled when you feel your bones shift that you immediately stop, blinking open your eyes. John is on the other end of the room, eyes wide and hyperventilating. Rose has her head tilted but is otherwise unreadable. Jade is leaning forward, fascinated. The whole image is doubled. You realize you have extra eyes. “Oh, shit.”

“I advise that you keep going,” Rose says.

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Okay.” Wow, that was lame. You quickly close your eyes and concentrate again. You can hear the sounds echo in your ears as your skull rearranges itself. Your hands shrink up. Your spine pushes out further, tail bunching up uncomfortably in the seat of your pants. What should very obviously a painful experience somehow isn’t. You sort of feel it? But it doesn’t actually hurt. Like anesthesia or something.

Just when you’re starting to worry about ruining your clothes, you start shrinking. And that’s when you realize an important detail. <Um, Jade?> you start. Then, <Whoa, thought-speak. That’s handy.> You open your four kitty eyes and look up at your second-best friend. <Jade, am I gonna be naked?>

“Well, obviously,” she says, rolling her eyes. She sounds muffled, like there’s cotton in your ears.

<Well, shit, I think this one’s partially deaf,> you complain. <Probably not great for spying.>

“Nor is the fact that it’s an obvious mutant,” Rose points out. “You won’t get a good spy from my cats.”

<Maybe I should catch a bird after all,> you decide. <And after I acquire it, I can eat it.>

Only by John’s horrified and disgusted reaction do you realize that you’ve said something weird. “It appears that the cat’s consciousness is in there along with Dave’s. Unless, that is, you’re in the habit of eating crow in a literal sense as well as a figurative,” says Rose. “Which is fine. I won’t judge.”

<Bite me,> you tell her as you casually groom your paw. After a moment, you slowly put down the paw, intensely aware of your friends’ attentions. <Uh, that was the cat.>

Jade is frowning and looks upset. “Um, if there’s a cat’s consciousness in there, does… does that mean we’re as bad as Yeerks?”

The question catches you off-guard. <Fuck no,> you answer. <It’s a goddamn cat, Harley. These are instincts, not thoughts. I promise you, no one is home here going ‘oh, gee, what is this other mind inside my mind controlling everything I do against my will?’>

“Wasn’t it the same for you?” asks Rose. “Didn’t you experience Becquerel’s instincts?”

Jade shakes her head. “No, but… Maybe that’s a Bec thing? He’s not a real dog. I’m not sure how he works. Dad said there could only ever be one of him. Maybe that’s why? Maybe, whatever the technology is, maybe it can’t make as good of copy of Bec as a cat because there can’t be two Becs?”

<That theory sounds a lot like magic,> you tell her.

“So does turning into animals,” Rose points out. “As well as telepathic communication.”

<Point taken.>

“Well, it must be fine, because the Andalite gave us these powers to fight Yeerks!” says John. “You can’t turn us into Yeerks to fight Yeerks.”

You agree. Jade says she agrees, but she still looks unsure. <Rose?> you prod, more to measure how difficult she’s going to be than because you’re actually concerned about her opinion.

“I reserve my opinion until more data has been revealed,” she says. “For the time being, while spying on Mr. Strider may not be a particularly good plan, it is the only step forward that we have, and for that, we will need to morph.”





	8. Chapter 8

So, in the end, the plan was pretty simple. You all acquired different mutant cats. You and Rose took the bus back to your place (which apparently was a new thing for her), and morphed behind the dumpster, pushing and pulling your clothes into a bush. Demorphing is going to be hella awkward. Later, around the hour and a half mark, Jade and John will join up with you, morph their cats, and let you go home for a short period, expanding the time Bro gets spied on to at least four hours. Any more spying after that is going to be you alone, because all three of them have _chores_. 

Climbing to your floor is actually a lot easier as a small cat than as a Dave. You make it up to the top floor in only a few minutes, but then you hear Bro’s voice drifting out to you. <I think he’s on the roof,> you tell her. <Come on. Let’s go.> You go more slowly now, trying to look like curious cats out for a walk instead of weird feline spies.

<Um, Dave,> says Rose. She’s looking at you sideways. Her morph actually only has two eyes, but the ears are massive. It took you both a few minutes to figure out walking and balance. <I’ve been thinking about something John said. That your brother is twenty years older than you?>

You bristle. <Yeah, so?>

<My mother was twenty-three when she had me.>

You do some quick math. Bro was twenty-two. <So?> You know why she brought it up, but you don’t want to give her anything to psychoanalyze.

<We both look like him and my mother, but they don’t look like each other,> she points out.

<Look, Bro is super fucking gay,> you blurt.

Rose stops in front of you and turns to look at you. <Dave… You do realize that doesn’t necessarily…>

<Did Roxy ever present as male?> you challenge.

<Well, no, not that I’m aware.> She thinks about that. <Maybe he donated sperm?>

<And got an egg in return?> you challenge. <Half a zygote? Okay, I didn’t pay attention in bio last year, but you get what I mean.>

She sighs in your head. <Alright, I see your point. I’m not sure I’m convinced he’s your brother, but I concede that natural conception seems unlikely.>

Before the conversation can continue further, Bro’s pacing happens to take him to the top of the stairs you were climbing. “Well, Tavros has probably thrown fits before,” he says into his phone. “It’s not a big deal.”

Whatever Rufioh says in reply, Bro doesn’t like it. “Dude, don’t make me the bad guy here! I’ve been blindsided by this whole thing!”

You glance to Rose then creep a little further up the ladder. The cat in you gets more scared the closer you get. It thinks Bro smells like a predator. You think Bro just smells. You had no idea you had gone nose-blind to his man-stench until you sprouted an extra-sensitive nose. “Yeah, I know he was.”

Bro runs his hand through his hair, pulling slightly as he does. “Look, I just wanted to know if you were free, okay? I didn’t call you for your daddy advice. I’m perfectly capable of raising my own kid.”

Rose gives you a pointed look, and you attempt to roll your eyes, but end up rolling your head and flopping over. You decide to pretend you did that on purpose. He’s your guardian, and you’re his kid. That’s how he meant it. Not… son. Or child. You’re not the fruit of his loins. It isn’t possible.

Bro’s attention suddenly snaps in another direction. “I have to go. Someone’s knocking at my door.”

<I didn’t hear a knock,> you say.

<I think I did,> says Rose. <Should we follow him or go around?>

<Stay about ten paces behind,> you tell her. <Bro won’t be looking for kitty-stalkers, but he’s pretty hyper-aware in general.>

Bro crosses the roof quickly, creeps the last few steps, and peeps quietly over the ledge to where your front door is. After taking in the sight of who-the-fuck-ever, he jumps off the roof to land right next to them. The mystery person shrieks. Hey, you never said your brother wasn’t a giant douchebag. You had to learn from someone.

As you and Rose stalk across the rooftop, you hear him ask in his most monotone of monotones, “So, who are you?”

“A-are you Dirk Strider?” The voice seems… maybe masculine? It’s closer to the middle of the spectrum. It’s about as snooty as Rose, but you’re not sure he’s doing it on purpose.

“Why?”

You peer over the ledge. Dude looks kinda like Vantas. Built for athletics but never used it. A ring of pudge around his middle. Hair that can’t be tamed. He is actually sticking his nose up. You didn’t know people actually did that. You’ve never met Kankri Vantas, but you’ve sure as hell remixed some of his leaked self-help conference speeches into hour-long dubstep tracks just to piss off Karkat. Ironically, these mixes are about three hours shorter than the original audio.

“Sorry if I in anyway surprised you by my unexpected arrival,” Kankri says, brushing invisible dust off himself. Somehow, he makes the apology sound like an accusation. It probably is, considering Bro just jumped off the roof at him. “My name is Kankri Vantas. I’m a representative of The Sharing.”

<I thought that was a school club,> says Rose.

<I think the school club is part of a bigger thing,> you tell her. <Like Girl Scouts or whatever.>

Bro just raises an eyebrow over his pointy anime shades. “I’m not really interested in joining a cult today, sorry.”

Kankri’s mouth works silently for a moment, too confused to actually wrestle words out. When it finally occurs to him that Bro has presumed that he represents a cult, he looks severely annoyed. You mentally snicker. “The Sharing is a community organization with an interest in creating a common bond between human persons for the sake of change within the community.”

“Sorry, bro, it still sounds like a cult.” But Bro crosses his arms and leans back against the brick wall of the apartment, listening. “Besides, isn’t it getting a little late in the day for recruitment? Us housewives need to be working on dinner, afterall.”

Kankri huffs. He decides to continue on anyway. “I have been knocking on the doors of parents of teens and preteens all day, actually, making inquiries and spreading knowledge.” Bro tenses just a hair at that but keeps his face impassive. “Three to five teenagers were seen running away last night after police arrived at the construction site across from the mall following reports of an illegal pyrotechnics display. We’re helping the police by asking around to see if anyone has heard anything about the incidents, and to remind people that pyrotechnics are illegal in this county except by special permission, for the health and safety of our residents. Someone could have been seriously injured last night.”

“You seem to be making assumptions about my skills as a guardian,” Bro drawls. “Namely that I don’t already know these things or have the sense of responsibility entailed to prevent them.”

Kankri rolls his eyes. “As I said, I have been knocking on doors all day. This conversation isn’t intended as any sort of accusation. I am only being informative.”

“Right, well, consider me informed.” Bro turns toward the door, digging keys out of his pocket.

“Although, it was mentioned on the tipline that your fondness of pyrotechnics and explosives have gotten you in trouble with the Department of Children’s Services on multiple occasions while you were living in Texas.”

In the blink of an eye, Bro has Kankri by the collar and bent back over the railing that divides people on the landing from the imminent death of falling. “What sort of community organization goes poking around in people’s DCS records?”

Kankri is actually surprisingly immune to physical threat and rolls his eyes at Bro again. “As I said, it was an anonymous tip received by and then validated by the police, who are working with us to address the problem of the children in the construction site. Again, no one is accusing you of anything. I made the presumption that if you were a guardian with the ‘skills’ and ‘sense of responsibility’ to look after your child, you’d want to make sure he wasn’t involved and didn’t know who was.”

Bro seems to be seriously considering throwing him over the railing. Instead, he pulls Kankri back and pushes him toward the stairs. “Message fucking delivered,” he says. “You can go on your way. Though, I will warn you that for thirteen years, not a power on this earth has been able to separate me from my brother, and I don't see that changing soon.”

Kankri grins back. Something about him has the unexpected edge of a predator. “And you should be warned… There may be more powers on this earth than you are currently aware of.”

Bro takes a menacing step toward him, but Kankri is already running away. Bro could easily catch him but brawling has rarely done him any good. Bro watches him go until Kankri has actually gone to his car in the parking lot, then Bro finally goes inside the apartment. He closes the door immediately behind himself, so you aren’t able to slip inside after him. You and Rose do, however, jump down and listen at the door.

“Sawtooth!” Bro calls. There’s a particular chill to his voice.

“Yes, sir, what’s the word?” the bot’s voice returns. You’re not sure when he activated it again. Maybe it’s voice activated. Maybe he gets lonely when you’re not around. Maybe he’s having another paranoia cycle and needs the rapping strife-bot to reassure his nerves.

<Who is that?> asks Rose.

<Sawtooth is a bot Bro built to train against,> you tell her. <He also sometimes acts as a guard dog.>

<Train?> she repeats.

<Sword-fighting, mostly. A bit of hand-to-hand,> you say. <He also raps.>

“Sawtooth, gather all the fireworks in the apartment and take them to the dumpster,” says Bro. His voice is getting further away. Probably moving to his room. “Check Dave’s room, too.”

“Yes, sir, word is heard,” says Sawtooth.

<He’s more of a walking Dr. Seus impression than a rapper,> she observes.

<Yeah, his short responses are pretty shitty,> you admit. <He’s fucking eloquent in long form, though.>

She sits down and looks directly at you. You let your cat brain follow its instincts to start grooming its face, just to avoid her gaze. <Mr. Vantas’s threat did sound an awful lot like something an invading extraterrestrial would say,> she mentions carefully.

<Yeah, I guess we can ask John and Jade what they think about that,> you grumble. <Like maybe sneak into one of their meetings or something?>

<It is also quite evident that your brother cares a lot about you,> she comments.

You sigh. You stop grooming your face and instead stretch your back out. <Rose, he knows something about our background, our very existence, that he’s refusing to say.>

<Yes,> she admits. <He’s also trained himself and you in martial arts and built a strifing guardian for the two of you. Has it occurred to you that perhaps your brother is secretive and abrasive because he is scared?>

<Well, yeah,> you admit. <He’s a paranoid freak.>

<Has it occurred to you, in light of the new information of our mutual existence, that he might have something real to be paranoid about?>

You think about that.

About twenty minutes later, you’re human again and dressed again, walking back up the steps to your apartment. Rose has promised to text John and Jade with the latest developments and tell them that they don’t have to come help spy on Bro anymore. You'll catch up with them on Pesterchum later.

You can count off exactly ten seconds since you closed the door behind you before Bro appears, trying to pretend he wasn’t waiting for you. You beat him to the argument. “Look, before you lay into me, can I say something first?” you ask.

Bro watches you for a moment, then crosses his arms and nods. Great, defensive. That bodes well.

“Look, I know I’ve been an asshole, and you don’t deserve it,” you tell him. “Well, you sort of deserve it, but not as much as I’ve been dishing out, probably.”

Bro’s shoulders come down just a millimeter and the tenseness eases from his arms. He’s surprised by this turn of events. Part of you still is, too.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you have lied to me about who I am, where I came from, and what has happened to our family,” you say, carefully keeping yourself from slipping into yelling at him. Just because you’re trying to end the fight doesn’t mean you’re not still emotionally raw. “And maybe you’ve got your reasons for that. Maybe you think you’re protecting me. Maybe you are protecting me. But as long as I don’t know what it is you’re keeping from me, I can’t trust you. And I won’t pretend to.”

Silence.

You shrug. “Okay, that’s it. You can yell at me now.”

“Go to your room,” he says, voice still a completely flat monotone. You sigh and obey, closing the door behind you without slamming it.

He doesn’t talk to you again. Even your sweet and sour chicken dinner is delivered by Sawtooth. In Bro's eyes, you've done something worse than start a fight. You took your sins out the equation, so he can no longer use them to distract from his own. He has quite possibly never been angrier at you, and you're not sure anymore how you feel about that.


	9. Chapter 9

It’s like all of your brother’s years of reclusive paranoia have trained you for this moment.

TG: all im sayin is that the people who are trying to catch us bein naughty are the ones with the very tech to do it if they think of it  
TG: and discussing the details here is basically a huge cry of yes daddy please  
GG: *insert rose psychoanalyzing that* :P  
EB: where is she, anyway? i thought you had her pesterchum handle, jade?  
GG: she said she didnt want me sharing it, but i invited her to the group!  
TG: well at least shes got good sense about somethin keepin alien talk outta easily accessible chatrooms  
EB: as much as i hate to say it, i think dave’s right.  
TG: awe ilu2 best buddy  
EB: haha! no, i mean like, gee it would be convenient if we could discuss things here, but we can't. our whole life is on pesterchum! i mean, it’s how we met dave, and dave is awesome.  
TG: tru  
GG: pfft  
TG: is that a snicker of doubt harley  
GG: are you kidding?! everyone knows you are the subzero COOOOOOLEST!! :D  
TG: damn right  
EB: maybe we could meet up somewhere? like the park?  
TG: dude what are we the mafia  
TG: somewhere crowded is better as long as you two can control your volume  
TG: its actually harder for anyone to notice or hear us if were quiet in a crowd  
TG: if anyone wants to eavesdrop theyd have to be right next to us which makes it really easy for us to know when were being listened to  
EB: okay so like the mall?  
GG: ill call rose!  
EB: i suppose it goes without saying that no one should take any shortcuts to the mall?  
TG: you ruin all the fun  
GG: youre such dorks! :P  


About an hour later, you and John are at the mall, chowing down on massive slices of pizza at the food court as you wait for the girls to find you. John suddenly stops eating, wipes his hands with a goddamn napkin like pants haven’t been invented yet, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. After a little scrolling and typing, he informs you, “Jade says she’s running late. Her dad isn’t letting her off chores, but she says she's almost finished.”

“You mean I could’ve kept shopping?” Rose asks, suddenly appearing next to you to sweep out a chair and perch in it with all the elegance of a Victorian lady. You’re kind of surprised she didn’t make you pull it out for her. This time, she has a few more bags, but again they’re all small purchases. One of the bags is black.

“You stopped to shop before meeting up with us?” you ask.

She shrugs. “If we’re making the excessive effort to blend in, it seems the thing to do, especially for a girl of my age.”

You snort. “Convincing people you’re harmless and uninteresting, and blending in are two completely different things,” you tell her. “You and I are _never_ going to blend in.”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Do you think I spend an hour on makeup for fun, Strider?” she asks, and, uh, yes, you did. “You’re right. The albino thing is much less passable when anyone looking at you can tell that you’re clearly meant to be black. The key is to keep them from looking at you long. I color in my brows. Using the a very fair shade of foundation as well as a smidge of blush, I’m able to make it appear like I have _some_ color. Graphic eyeliner and dark lips complete the gothic aesthetic, and anyone _glancing_ at me neatly slots me into that category of their brain. Because I easily meet one set of expectations, it usually takes them quite a while to notice that I don’t meet the rest.”

Huh. You’d have never thought of all that. You always just took Bro’s tactic of silent aggression so people are (usually) afraid to approach you. You… you kind of feel insulted though. “So… what? You’d rather be white than albino?”

She actually clucks her tongue at you, holy shit. “Dave, anyone who isn’t an idiot can see my paleness hasn’t changed my heritage,” she says with a sort of scolding tone. “And as for those who are idiots… I’m not responsible for their presumptions, but I can use them to my advantage. If a bit of careful makeup can reduce the number of total strangers who interrupt my day, then why shouldn’t I use it?” She shrugs. “I like to think of it as a power, the ability to use their own inept preconceptions against them.”

“Huh.” You’re not sure what else to say. She’s kind of handling the whole thing better than you, but you’re more impressed than mad. Maybe there’s just too much to be mad at lately to bother adding another thing to the list.

John sighs and leans forward on his elbows. “Well, until Jade gets here, what do you want to talk about?” he says. Wow, he is outright pouting. You’re definitely his best friend, but he and Jade have been attached at the hip for years. You can’t really imagine having family like that. Mentally, you briefly poke at the feeling to see if you’re jealous, but, no, more just baffled.

“How ’bout why Rose can’t just give us her pester handle?” you tease. When she shoots a glare at you, you smirk and take a big, victorious bite of pizza.

John rolls his eyes at you. “Rose doesn’t have to share it if she doesn’t want, Dave.” But he then fidgets a little and says, “But, it, uh, would be helpful if we could communicate with you without going through Jade. Maybe your number? Or a different messaging handle? Or… something?”

Rose is staring him down like she’s running for Ice Queen of the Year. You smirk again. “C’mon, I know you know ours,” you tell her, still chewing while you talk, because you’re fairly certain it will piss her off. “You handed us pens in our text colors.”

“I thought it would help keep track of who contributed what to our notes, besides obvious handwriting and grammar differences,” she says.

“And now you’re trying to distract from the point,” you counter.

“Dave, seriously, lay off,” John tells you. He’s shooting you a look that says he thinks you’re being too much of an asshole. You take another bite of pizza and consider. If you push harder, you might be able to push Rose out, but John will be mad at you. On the other side of things, you probably shouldn’t try to push Rose out anymore, because you don’t like the idea of anyone not part of your core group knowing about what happened. Besides, she does have your back about the weird family shit going down, even if she is－

“TentacleTherapist,” she says.

You choke.

John gives you a hard slap on the back to make sure your windpipe is clear, and you shove at him to make sure he doesn’t do it again. Out of the corner of your eye, Rose is both smug at having gained that reaction and pretty fucking annoyed that she had to reveal it in the first place. Oh, you should really learn when to keep your mouth shut. “Where have I heard that before?” John wonders, and why can’t the earth ever open up and swallow you when you want it to?

“Nowhere,” you snap. “You have heard it in no place ever. We have never before encountered this handle before, because honestly, what are the fucking chances?”

“Did that girl you flirt with have a handle that had to do with tentacles?” asks John. And then he looks up, sees your expressions, and finally starts doing the math. “Wait, did you－?”

You’re maybe a little too rough when you clamp your hand across his mouth, and if he bruises, you are going to have a hard time explaining it, but hey, not your concern right now. “John, I swear to god, no one will find your body,” you hiss.

He rolls his eyes but puts his hands up in surrender. You release your grip on his mouth and sit down again, glancing around to make sure you haven’t garnered any attention. There’s a security guard who has noticed, but he’s already relaxing, assured that there is not about to be a scuffle.

So of course this is when Jade appears, bouncing into the remaining seat at the table. “Hey, guys! What’s up?”

“Twincest,” John tells her before you can stop him. He laughs and bats away your hands when you mimic strangling him.

Jade is surprised and turns to Rose. “Oh, you told them your handle after all?”

“You _knew_?” you demand.

“Not at the time it was happening,” says Rose. “After I moved, and I met Jade, we exchanged pesterchum handles. After the… incident, she tried to invite me to a group chat. I recognized your handle, Dave, and promptly disinvited myself before you could notice mine. I then privately told Jade why.”

“I don’t see the big deal,” Jade says, pulling a pepperoni off John’s pizza because she obviously has no sense of boundaries. “You were both raised under the belief that you were only children. There’s no way you could’ve known this might happen. Besides, it was only flirting.”

You and Rose exchange brief glances. “Yes, exactly,” Rose says quickly. “It is still a bit embarrassing, though, and I’d appreciate if we could move past it.”

“Seconded,” you add quickly.

John snickers at you, but Jade raises her hand and votes, “Thirded. Passed by majority vote! Okay, so now that we’re pretty sure Dave’s bro isn’t evil, what are we gonna do about the actual bad guys?”

“You said Karkat’s dad was acting weird?” John asks you.

You nod. “Yeah, he said he was with The Sharing and that they were working with police.” You shrug. “Everything he did could be excused as creepy do-gooder junk, but then he threatened Bro, which, like correct me if I’m wrong, that doesn’t exactly seem like ‘community building’ to me.”

Rose glances around to make sure no one’s listening, then says, “Specifically, his words were ‘There may be more powers on this earth than you are currently aware of.’”

“Yeah, that… that sounds sketchy,” John admits.

Jade is pouting. “That’s both Kanaya’s mom and Karkat’s dad,” she says. “You think… you think they really are…?”

“Are either of them in The Sharing?” asks Rose.

John shakes his head. “Karkat gets roped into it sometimes, but he and Kanaya are obsessed with that romance club,” he tells her.

Jade’s pout deepens, and she whines, “We were supposed to have a meeting at Karkat’s house today.”

Both your and Rose’s attention snaps to Jade. “Karkat’s house?” you repeat.

John quickly recognizes the thread of thought. “If we want to see what’s up with Ms. Maryam’s family and The Sharing, we could spy on them through Karkat and Kanaya. Maybe even Sollux and Nepeta.”

“What?” Jade demands. “We can’t do that!”

You blink at her, surprised. “Why?”

“It’s… I don’t know, it just feels mean,” she says. “Spying on your brother to make sure he’s okay is one thing. But you want to trick them into letting us into their home!”

You are all gaping at her. Again, you glance around to make sure no one’s paying attention. You lean forward and hiss, “Harley, did you forget that these are the bad guys?”

“Visser Three is,” she agreed. “The people that helped him are. But you don’t know that all of them are.”

“They’re body snatchers!” says John, and you and Rose both look around _again_ to make sure no one heard that. You then shoot him a look. He looks vaguely apologetic, but annoyed with his cousin.

“Okay, but like, maybe some people are okay with that?” Jade counters. “You have no idea what their circumstances are or what deals they struck.”

“If they had to strike a _deal_ , I think that implies an inherent lack of enthusiastic consent,” you snarl. You’re jarred out of your anger when John laughs. “What?” you ask.

“You sound like Bro,” he giggles.

“You know what, fuck you,” you grumble.

Jade’s softening a bit, too, but she still looks upset. “I just don’t think it’s okay to assume that an entire species is evil.”

“And I agree,” says Rose, and you shoot her a vicious look. She ignores you. “However, I would like to raise the supposition that perhaps while there may be nice Yeerks out there, it is probably unlikely that they joined in with the invasion fleet. Recall that we’re fighting on _our_ terrain, not theirs. They had to come here with the explicit intention of enslavement.”

Jade looks down at her hands and bites her lower lip. After a long moment’s consideration, she finally nods. “Alright, I guess you have a point. I… I’m not sure I feel okay attacking people, but… But I guess spying’s okay. For defense.”

“Great!” says John, grinning way more than the situation calls for. “So who’s going to romance club?”


	10. Chapter 10

You have to admit that you knew it was going to go like this even before Jade objected, but you’re not letting Jade go alone into a house full of potential Controllers if you can help it. The fact that John voiced the very same opinion when he _wasn’t_ raised by a paranoid recluse only proves your point. Plan A: Try to pretend you are genuinely interested in romance novels. Plan B: Be a cat.

You’re actually pretty impressed that John is capable of making a backup plan, even if said plan is a little obvious in this case. The boy is surprisingly good at keeping your little… whatever you are… on track.

“Hell no!” Karkat Vantas squeals. “Harley, I know you feel the need to drag your pets _everywhere_ you go, but that one pisses on the carpets while that one yaps at all the other dogs and will. not. stop.” He points at John and then you as he makes these accusations.

Jade fidgets as the four of you stand awkwardly on Maryam’s porch, then something catches her eye. She grins, cups her hands, and calls out, “Bro! Karkat is making fun of dogs!”

“I am making fun of humans!” Karkat immediately calls back.

“By calling them dogs!”

Jade’s foster brother eventually appears behind Karkat, raising an eyebrow at your little cluster. “Gotta side with Jade on this one,” Erek King says with a teasing smile. “Calling Strider a dog is definitely an insult to dogs.”

You roll your eyes. Jade’s foster family has never been super fond of you and has become much less so since you moved to Boring Shores, Washington. This may have something to do with all the times you’ve insulted their beloved pets, which, let’s be honest here, they love far more than is healthy for any human. “Hey, King, nice to see you. Rescued any monstrosities today?”

“Yeah, whatever, since when are all of you－” Karkat starts, but then he stops himself, finally taking notice of Rose, who has been fiddling with her phone the whole way here and, upon arrival, leaned against the railing of the porch to continue doing so. “Actually, who the fuck are you? Who said there were allowed to be more Striders?”

“Rose Lalonde,” she purrs without looking up. “Our parents separated when we were fairly young under animositous circumstances, but only recently decided that we should become reacquainted as, for some reason, poor Dave is having a hard time making friends. A need which I am certain to pay undivided attention to the moment I finish out-gifting my mother’s character in the Kim Kardashian game.”

How long has she had this backstory prepared? Holy shit, the girl is good. Wait, has she actually been playing Kim K this whole time? You beat that like three months ago. She wouldn’t be able to see you roll your eyes even if she was looking up, so instead you try to communicate your disdain through prolonged staring and hard concentration.

Vantas looks carefully from Rose to you, then back again. “She can stay," he decides. "Prankster Boy and the Almighty Hipster can go home.”

John starts to protest, but Erek cuts him off. “Look, guys, I know you’re all attached at the hip, but last time she brought you, you ruined everyone else’s fun,” he says. “I know that wasn’t your goal…” He shoots you, specifically, an uncertain glance. “... probably. But the point is that everyone who comes here comes here to relax while sharing a common interest. Because you don’t have that interest, you entertain yourselves with pranks and snark, which Jade has a high tolerance for but which makes everyone else miserable. Please be respectful and leave? You’ve hung out with Jade literally all day and 76% of the week.”

You and John exchange glances. “Only 76%?” you ask. “Awe, shit, Jade, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so inattentive. Can you ever forgive me?”

Jade is nearly doubled over in giggles. She tries to answer but utterly fails, so Erek rolls his eyes and pulls her inside. Karkat eyes Rose warily before stepping aside to let her in. He legitimately snarls at you before closing the door in your face. You stand there for a second, then turn to John. “So plan B?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Plan B was really Plan A all along,” he admits. As the two of you walk back down the porch and around the windowless side of the house － someone spray-painted “Whore of 2orrow2” in mustard yellow on the side － he asks, “Do you think we actually upset them last time?”

“Nah,” you say. “Jade woulda chewed us out if we did. If King hadn’t shut us down just then, Karkat coulda spent a good hour arguing with me just for the sport of it.”

“I think maybe we can hide behind the air conditioner to morph?” John says.

You look at the air conditioning unit. Like most air conditioning units, it’s a large cube, just big enough to comfortably hold a dead monk. “Um…”

“One at a time I mean!” he says quickly.

Yeah, you have _got_ to figure a way around this nudity thing. “Right, you first,” you say quickly. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

“What?” John demands. “Why me first?”

“Because I don’t have a prankster’s gambit to top off,” you say.

He starts to object but can’t think of a better reason for you to go first, so he sulkingly settles for “Whatever, man,” and goes to strip naked behind the principal’s house. Wow, what a story for the grandkids. (If you ever live to see them.)

The sound of bones crunching and flesh reforming is infinitely more disgusting when you don’t have your own transfiguration to be distracted by. You try to concentrate on the glimpses of empty street and alley that you can see from your position. “We probably should’ve morphed somewhere else and walked,” you admit under your breath. Oh well, too late now. Where the fuck are you going to stash your clothes? Oh man, if you get run off somehow, your clothes are going to be left by the principal’s air conditioner. This was a terrible idea. Why did your pride make you accompany Jade? Why do you even have that much pride? It’s probably Bro’s fault somehow.

<Dude, stop flipping out. It’s your turn.>

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden intrusion of John's voice in your mind. Yeah, you definitely were not paying enough attention. You do your own sulk to the spot behind the air conditioner as a two-tailed cat comes out to take your place as watchman. “I was not flipping out,” you mumble.

<I could totally hear you hyperventilating,> he teases. He sticks his weird kitty tongue out at you. Then… does it again. <Oh, hey, I have two!>

“Dude, stop broadcasting your issues onto me. Lalonde will have a field day when she realizes.” You’ve already ducked behind the air conditioner, so you can’t see him, but you’re pretty sure John is sticking his two kitty tongues out at you again.

A moment of gross flesh origami later, your four-eyed self easily jumps on top of the air conditioner unit. <Cool, so where seems like a good place to start with the creepy spying?>

<Well, the club looked like it was in the living room,> says John. He jumps up next to you and rubs his head against yours without a second thought. Haha, wow, someone needs to control their cat instincts. <We can probably hear from the crack in the front door?>

You shake your head. <Nah, our mutant butts will be easily seen by anyone on the street.>

<Okay, well, there’s gotta be at least one more door, fire safety and all, and probably windows on the other sides,> says John. <I think there’s not any on this side because of how close the neighbors are.>

You start to lick your paw, but force yourself to put it down. <They’re probably just gonna argue about the motivations of Jane Austen for three hours again. Can you tell where the elder Maryam is?> you ask. She’s the only one that you know for completely sure is a Controller. You’re almost completely sure that Kankri Vantas is a Controller, considering what he said to Bro. You’re only highly suspicious of the rest.

What about Jade’s bro? Should you be suspicious of her family? Technically, you should be suspicious of everyone, but if she was living among Controllers, wouldn’t they have figured out a way to shove a slug in her ear by now? Then again, if they have finite resources, as a secret invasion would suggest, maybe they won’t waste it on random high school kids. Unless those kids have influence. Like, for example, having the emotional keys to the heirs of CrockerCorp and also, apparently, Krypto the Superdog.

You realize John has already wandered away and chase after him. <Dude, where are you going?> you demand.

<I already told you, I thought I heard Mr. Vantas’s voice,> John says. <You really need to stop zoning out like that.>

<I have no idea what you’re talking about,> you blatantly lie, and John rolls his kitty eyes at you.

Behind the house, you hear the muffled sound of voices but can’t tell who they belong to. John creeps up to the back door, sniffs around, and presses an ear to the crack. <Yeah, Mr. Vantas and Ms. Maryam,> he confirms. <They’re talking about… I’m not sure yet.>

You know your partially deaf morph isn’t going to be any use at the crack in the door, so you look around and find a window with a fat ledge in jumping range. You perch on it as easily as taking a single step up a flight of stairs, but you nearly fall off at the sight inside. Seeing school staff in their natural environment is one level of disturbing, but seeing your principal wearing only a halter top and leggings, long hair released from its prim bun and every inch of skin that’s usually covered by her suits now covered in swirling black tattoos, is a whole other level of freaky. This is the ever-suffering and compassionate village mom-cycle?

They appear to be in a small office at the back of the house, just off the kitchen. Both the door and the window are in the kitchen, but pretty close to the office, the door of which Maryam has left open. She’s sitting in a cheap desk chair, leaning back with her arms folded, looking up at Kankri Vantas with a distinctly unamused expression. Kankri is standing, dressed in his usual bulky sweater and khakis and loafers (thank god), and rambling at her. <What is he saying?> you ask John.

<Um… a lot?> John presses his head harder against the door like that’s going to help. <I think… they’ve both been looking for the kids in the construction site. Um, us, I guess. She was supposed to be checking via school resources, while he checks via Sharing resources and also, um, wow, kids in therapy.>

You are suddenly very glad that you haven’t found a new shrink in Washington, yet, instead Skyping with your old Texas one. She’d actually recommended Vantas because, well, he’s both local and famous as fuck. Gonna be the next Dr. Phil or some shit. But, one, like hell do you want to talk to Dr. Phil about your complicated gender feelings. And, two, like hell do you want to talk to Dr. Phil when his son is in the same fucking grade as you. Even if you could trust him to keep shit private like he’s supposed to (which apparently you can’t. god, that makes your skin crawl), everything you said would jump to the forefront of your mind every time you laid eyes on his Mini Me. Also, three, Bro would have to go full time overboard with the porn thing to afford it and… yeah, you feel weird requesting that.

<He says there’s an ‘abundance of miscreants’ that could’ve been in the construction site but that he can’t find proof on. All he can do is rope every bad kid into the Sharing and hope he trips over the right one.>

Maryam smirks at that and replies. <She says that would make her job a lot easier,> John tells you.

Kankri keeps going like she never spoke. <Oh, uh, he’s noting that your Bro is acting super cagey, but according to… what?>

Your attention swivels away from the window and down to him. <What what?> you demand.

<He’s talking about the research that ‘Sufor’ did on your Bro,> John tells you. <I… I think he’s talking about his Yeerk? I think… I think he’s not controlled at the moment!>

<What the fuck?> You glance back toward the window. Maryam hasn’t even raised an eyebrow at him. If Kankri is in command despite being a Controller, she’s used to it. Does that mean he’s okay with it? Or does he just think there’s no point to resisting? Does he think he can win, eventually, if he plays nice?

John soon answers your question. <Dave, Jade was right. There’s willing human hosts. And… and Mr. Vantas genuinely thinks that Yeerks are a good thing for humanity.>


End file.
